


A Chance of Change

by Funkspiel



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alpha!Percival Graves, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dubious Consent, Hurt/Comfort, King/Peasant Dynamics, Knotting, Large Cock!Graves, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega!Newt Scamander, Other Kinks to Come, Power Dynamics, Small Cock!Newt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 14:44:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12655620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Funkspiel/pseuds/Funkspiel
Summary: When Newt found Graves in the mud, he never imagined he'd be the first Alpha he'd meet, nor the soon-to-be-King, nor that the chance meeting would change his life forever -- but that's exactly what happened.





	A Chance of Change

**Author's Note:**

> For Anon

It was during his daily morning ride that Newt found him — a man, unconscious in the mud, with his horse stomping nervously around his body. Between the gray of the day and the rain in his lashes, Newt almost missed him. If not for the loyalty of his horse, he might not have seen him at all. The moment he dismounted and his boots sunk into the mud, he had a feeling of what had happened. Mud like this tended to suck the shoes right off of horses, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he lifted that tall stallion’s hoof to find it bare. The loss of the shoe might have spooked it or even hurt, and if the blood dribbling slowly from the stranger’s brow was anything to go by, it likely had resulted in one thing - a tossed rider.

“Sir?” Newt said, the length of his own mount’s lead in one hand as he slowly made his way toward the figure. “Sir, can you hear me?”

But honestly, Newt could barely hear himself against the roar of the storm he had accidentally found himself caught in. With a soft sigh, he gently calmed the foreign horse, murmuring assurances into its snout so it would still and cease the risk of accidentally losing another shoe in the mud or losing its balance and crushing its owner. He gathered it’s lead in his hand and quickly bound the horse to his own, knowing his mount wouldn’t stray, before kneeling into the soft give of the mud below to check on the unconscious man.

“Sir?” He asked again, but it was quickly apparent that his voice had fallen upon deaf ears - the man was out cold, lips somewhat blue in the chill of the morning rain and slightly parted. In the hush of the onslaught, Newt found his mind filled with a droning call. Rain filled his nose, muddied his mind, until all he could focus on was the man’s lips - blue but beautiful. He was just about to reach for them when a nip to his shoulder brought him back to the present. His filly stomped her foot once, patience waning in the rain, as though to say _stop staring and let’s go already._

But Newt couldn’t leave the pair out here…

So with a sigh and grunt of effort, he went about tossing the broader man onto his mount, eager to get home.

* * *

Theseus had not yet come home from his chores at the market by the time Newt finally got the man inside and the horses sorted. The chickens went unfed as he stripped the stranger of his sopping wet clothing - his cheeks a blazing scarlet all the while, steadily growing with each inch of creamy skin his hands reveals. The man was chill as death, and as lovely as a glacier. His face formed by hard lines and a strong jaw. Skin so pale it might have been shaped from snow itself. Hair spun by the night itself, plastered wetly to his forehead. He was gorgeous, but something felt remiss. Beyond the chill and the danger, something niggled in the back of Newt’s mind. A simple bell, chiming blindly. But he did not know what for.

He cast the thought aside, hoping distracting himself might loosen the thought, and went about hauling the man toward the tub where hot water lay waiting. 

The heat from the bath seemed to stir some visage of life back into the man, because the moment Newt began to lower him into the water, a sigh passed his lips - content and grateful. Hard work done, Newt took a moment to lean back onto his haunches, wipe the sweat from his brow, and really take in the situation he had landed himself in.

He was alone with a stranger that he had plucked from the mud, and not just any stranger if the view beneath the water was anything to go by. Born to a family of Omegas - his Alpha father having abandoned them shortly after his own birth - Newt had never seen another Alpha in his life. He knew only the gentle touches of his Omega family. Of the movement of their slight, lithe frames and the shape of his own body. He had never seen a man as broad as this in his life, nor so well, Newt swallowed - _endowed._

Between the strangers legs hung a cock at least four times the size of Newt’s own, although to be bigger than Newt was hardly a difficult task. Theseus had commented more than once that, even for an Omega, Newt shyly toed the line of abnormally small. 

“But don’t worry,” Theseus would always say, “Alphas don’t like competition any way.” And there was a sourness in his voice that Theseus would never explain. 

He knew Alpha’s were large, _but_ _this_ … He knew well enough how children came to be, but he couldn't fathom how any Omega could take that cock and live to tell the tale, let alone enjoy it. But even as the thought passed through his mind, another rose behind it - chasing its coattails.

_It was a rather fine cock._

As though sculpted rather than bred, laying gently against the stranger’s thigh. Suddenly, he wanted to touch it. To weigh it in his palm. His knack for all things living prompting him curiously to investigate. His finger tips itched, his palm ached, and suddenly his mouth felt dry. Eyes locked upon the organ as though seeing a new creature for the first time. He even considered — very briefly — on if he could sketch it before a hand locked around his wrist, wet and large and calloused, making him jump. 

“It won’t bite, you know,” the stranger said, and Newt felt something shiver all the way down his spine at the confidence that weighed down every word, wrapped in velvet and whiskey and a dozen other lovely parallels. Something odd fluttered in his lower belly, something foreign, and for a moment he worried he was sick. But the stranger continued before he could dwell on it. “Although I am quite flattered by your attentions.”

“I’m sorry!” Newt suddenly stammered, a fire rising in his cheeks fit to match his russet hair. “That was rather unbecoming of me, taking advantage of you while you were hurt and sleeping. Forgive me.”

“Forgive you? Did you kidnap me?” The man asked, and Newt leapt forward to deny it, noticing too late the open playfulness on his face. This stranger was not worried at all.

“No! I found you in the mud on my morning ride and I couldn’t just leave you there, I—“

The hand on his wrist moved to clasp his fingers where they curled around the lip of the tub, and the stranger smiled.

“Then there is nothing to forgive. If anything I should be _thanking you_ it seems. For rescuing me. You’re rather daring for an Omega, aren’t you?”

Newt felt his hard pump a thick and heady beat beneath his ribcage. No one had ever called him brave. Awkward, ungainly, foolish - but never brave. He licked his lips, unable to meet his patient’s gaze. Eyes caught on the cut on his forehead instead, red and livid, but no longer bleeding. 

“You’d be the first to think it, I’m afraid,” Newt said softly, but oh how he yearned to hear it again. 

Percival frowned, as though confused, and said, “I can barely tick off the fingers of one hand the number of Omegas that come to mind that would do what you did. Pull an Alpha from the mud — a stranger, at that — and heave him home alone. _Where he lived_ _alone_.”

“I don’t live alone,” Newt rushed in. “My brother is the head of the house.”

“Where is your brother, then?”

Newt swallowed.

“He’ll be here soon.”

“I’m sure.”

Silence fell between them, but it did not seem to bother the stranger at all. Instead, the man seemed more than content to size him up. A dangerous light in his brown eyes that Newt had seen before, but could not quite peg. Confident and lazy, like a—

“Percival,” the man said.

“E-excuse me?”

“My name. It’s Percival. You didn’t seem to know, so I figured I’d introduce myself.”

Newt’s brow furrowed. Odd way to phrase that…

“Should I know you?” Newt asked and Percival shrugged, sliding deeper into the steamy embrace of the bath Newt had drawn him.

“I’d honestly be more surprised if you did know, rather than didn’t. My name doesn’t tend to reach this far out.”

Newt moved his words this way and that. Like a puzzle piece he couldn’t quite fit into the larger picture. This far out… from what? The capital? The market? What a strange man.

“I fear maybe you hit your head a little harder than I thought,” Newt blurted out. The man gave him a strange look, and for a moment Newt wondered if he had stepped on the toes of polite conversation yet again, despite Theseus’ many attempts to teach him how to “socialize” properly. But Percival just chuckled and shook his head, a soft huff of something akin to interest on his breath. 

“Are you not going to introduce yourself, mister…?”

“Newt. Newt Scamander. You may not have heard of me as far out as wherever you hail from,” Newt teased, eyes immediately falling after his brave little jibe — all his courage waning the second the words passed his lips.

His heart stuttered happily, however, when the Alpha merely belted out a merry laugh, eyes twinkling, his gaze never once having left Newt. 

“I like you, Newt. You’re unlike any Omega I’ve ever met.”

“My brother would agree with you there. He’s tried to raise me right, but—“

“He raised you perfectly, Newt. You’re far more interesting than the bland little birds that chirp around the capital, vying for attention. You’re… capable. I like that.”

Newt flushed, unsure of what to say. To be capable was to be independent. Something Omega’s weren’t supposed to be. But it was hard not to be capable when you had to fend for yourself. Theseus had grown up to be capable out of necessity, and while he had tried to instill Omega qualities into Newt — hoping to at least preserve his chances for proper mating — it was hard not to learn by example.

And Theseus was one of the most capable people Newt knew.

Percival didn’t say it like a negative though. From his lips, it was something admirable. Something Newt never though he’d hear an Alpha say. The strange feeling in his belly was back, making him uncomfortable and confused. His brows furrowed and his cheeks pinkened, and he quickly rose to dry his hands and give the man his privacy.

“Wait,” Percival said, “I hope I didn’t offend?”

“No, I—“ Newt looked this way and that, his words faltering the moment his standing brought him head on with an even fuller gaze of the Alpha’s assets. He swallowed and tried to ignore the amusement on Percival’s face. “I think I hear my brother calling. I’ll leave you to your bath now that you’re feeling better.”

“Thank you, Newt.”

Newt nodded jarringly and positively sped out of the bathroom, the Alpha’s chuckles following him out. And even after he had left the house to catch some fresh air, the sound of his laughter followed him — rich like honey and dangerous like whiskey, warming him from the inside and making him want more.

“Oh what have I done,” he whispered in a shudder of lost breath, eyes out on the horizon in the direction Theseus would surely come from sooner or later, “Thes is going to be livid.”

 


End file.
